


Midnight Rider

by jay (MoastedRarshmallow)



Series: the one where morty's autistic [4]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Morty Smith, Disability, Gen, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 23:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15424185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoastedRarshmallow/pseuds/jay
Summary: Morty has a nightmare, Rick cheers him up.





	Midnight Rider

**Author's Note:**

> SUPER short i just wanted to put something out while i still can (goin back to school soon) and while i'm working on a larger fic for the same fandom... which is kicking my ass. but anyway
> 
> let me know what you think and enjoy!

 The garage door swings open, bathing Rick in light from the hallway. Morty’s standing there, pajama-clad, wiping roughly at his cheeks to stop the tears.

 “H-hey,” Rick says, setting down his latest project. “Bad dream?”

  Morty nods, bobbing his head up and down. Rick would snicker at the exaggerated movements if this was anyone but Morty.

 “T-t-that fuckin’ blows, kid,” he says. “Wanna talk about it?”

 Morty shakes his head ‘no’, which Rick was expecting, but he figured it’s always nice to ask. To let him know that if he ever wants to, he’ll be heard. By Rick, at least. He can’t speak for the dumbasses inside that Morty didn’t feel safe enough to go to.

 It hurts him that Morty didn’t start to come out of his shell until he came back. Did they just… ignore their youngest up until then? He loved his daughter, but shit, she was better than that.

 “Well,” Rick says, rising from his workbench. “I’m up. You’re up. Wanna – wanna catch a movie, or something?”

 Morty shrugs, still looking upset; unconvinced.

 “An off-planet movie, M-ugh-orty,” he says. “C’mon. I wouldn’t – I won’t torture you with Earth shit.”

 The kid sort of smiles, but that’s not enough for Rick. He thinks for a second, regarding this sad little urchin in his doorway, before tossing him the keys to the ship.

 “You drive,” he says, satisfied when Morty’s face lights up.

 

  Driving the ship comes to Morty as easily as breathing, though you couldn’t pay him to drive an Earth car. Jerry tried to teach him, once, to no avail. Too many distractions, sounds, drivers beeping angrily when he made the wrong turn.

 Space is different. Quiet. Lonely to some, maybe, but he could concentrate.

 “You c-ugh-an put it on autopilot, Morty,” Rick says, leaning back in the passenger’s seat.

 Morty shakes his head, fingers drumming against the wheel, but not in an anxious way. For the first time in quite a few days, he feels at ease.

  Rick shrugs, bringing his flask to his lips. “Y-y-you’re the boss.”

 Morty returns his focus to the windshield, taking in the vastness of space. Stars twinkle from their respective solar systems, blinks of color in the otherwise plain darkness. As always, it’s beautiful, and Morty sighs, content.

 “This – this is n-n-nice, Rick,” he says softly. “Thanks.”

 “Yeah, if you’re into the bare minimum,” Rick scoffs, but he smiles faintly around the mouth of his flask. He’s just glad something as simple as spaceflight could make the kid feel better.  


End file.
